Jordan saw this large grey metallic object in the distance. It looked like it had shot down out of the sky. Now it was racing towards them, skimming over the sea. It was approaching very fast. He needed to get up, to get to the helm. What exactly was going on?

He was lying on his back, it felt as though he needed to push a thick fog away. The most wonderful sensation seemed to engulf his whole body. Now he just relaxed, forgot the urgency. Suddenly he felt very sexy, he moved his hips, thrusting.

He opened his eyes slowly as consciousness returned and he focused on the space around him. It was then things became clear, he was naked on the bed in the cabin onboard the yacht. The last twenty-four hours had taken their toll, he'd crashed out as soon as his head hit the pillow, but the dream had woken him.

Not just the dream though! Firas was crouched down at the bottom of the bed and he had Jordan's hard cock in his mouth. The boy's tongue was playing across the head of his erection, which was giving him an incredible feeling. Never in his life had anything like this happened. His building climax took control and he was lost in a muddled euphoria, Jordan reached out to hold both sides of Firas' head. The thought shot through his mind he should pull the boy off, but then Firas looked up directly into his eyes.

It was too much, Jordan gently held the boy's head and moved his hips, pushing his cock into the boy's wet and willing mouth. He gasped, holding his breath as the unstoppable force erupted through his body. He held Firas' head, bucked his hips. "I'm... I'm..." Jordan could not get the words out. Firas sucked on his cock, moving his lips slowly down the shaft. "Gonna... " Jordan thrust into those moist lips.

Firas succeeded in swallowing most of Jordan's juice. He licked around the head of Jordan's still strong erection. Firas felt so pleased with himself. It was a fantasy he had harboured for some time, maybe even before they shared a bedroom together. Now he only hoped Jordan would not be angry.

Jordan lay back spent, but whilst doing so motioned Firas to move up next to him. Jordan brushed a hand through the boy's hair pushing it back from his face. "I shouldn't have done that," he told him, a terrible guilt entering his thoughts.

Firas recognised the confusion on Jordan's face. It was strange, he thought to himself, this grown man is feeling like a young boy who’s just had sex for the first time.

"You didn't do anything, I did most of it." He smiled.

"I'm not..." Jordan paused, no longer sure if what he was about to say was true anymore.

Firas touched his forefinger to Jordan's lips. "We won't talk about this. I like you, it's my gift. You've given so much."

Firas could have no idea how close he was to the truth when he felt Jordan was like a young boy having his first experience. Jordan's mind was full of conflicting thoughts, ideas, and admonishments, but he put it all out of his head. 'What's done is done,' he told himself, and pushed himself up off the bed and found his clothes.

"I need to check things on deck... our course, where we are," he spoke out loud as much to himself as to Firas. "Are you alright?" Jordan asked, not really sure what happens next, but knowing he had things to do, important things.

"Fine... go," Firas replied smiling.

Jordan left the cabin, stopped in the galley to splash some water on his face, and went up on deck. Amar and Samir were together at the helm, "Jordan, hi," Amar greeted him.

"Hi, everything okay?"

"It's all good, Mister Jordan," Amar smiled, and Samir had a big grin on his face.

Jordan checked his watch it was one o'clock, just gone. He needed to plot their course, check progress, see exactly where they were. "Maybe one or both of you could get some lunch together?"

"Is Firas okay?" Samir asked.

"I think so, I left him in bed. Maybe go check on him."

They went below together and Jordan moved to the small bridge to look at the marine satnav. It was a very well equipped boat and the modern equipment made charting a course child's play. They were not doing badly, even if the wind had dropped and changed direction. All being well they could expect to reach Rhodes some time tomorrow morning, as planned. Jordan pulled in the sail and the yacht picked up a little pace. He would have to try to find time for a nap this afternoon, because he would need to be up all night again and he was feeling pretty tired.

Firas came up on deck with Samir following behind. He smiled at Jordan, but otherwise acted like nothing had happened. Samir sat up at the front of the yacht, watching the horizon. Firas sat behind Jordan, watching him, although Jordan couldn't see because he had his back to him.

Jordan asked Firas about the sea sickness, he told him it was fine. He also asked what Amar was doing in the galley, and Firas told him he'd thrown them out saying there were too many people in there to cook.

"Better watch out when we eat," Firas joked.

"You can try it first then," Jordan turned and smiled. He was too concentrated on getting them safely to their destination to bother thinking about what had happened with Firas. That was very much a part of Jordan's character, go with the flow, and don't rock the boat - no pun intended.

Amar had prepared what turned out to be a rather good meal, and they all ate together on deck. It was getting hot, although the sea breeze cooled the temperature. There was a clear blue sky and a calm sea. The boys cleaned up the lunch plates and dishes, made coffee, and then Jordan left them to keep a lookout saying he needed an afternoon nap. He told them to come and wake him at six, if he wasn't already up.

The rest of the afternoon passed calmly into evening. Jordan was woken by Firas gently shaking his shoulders and then kissing him on the cheek as he opened his eyes. They joined Amar and Samir on deck. It wouldn't be too long before sunset. Jordan took the opportunity to explain to them the next part of the plan.

He said that if everything went right, they would be off the Greek coast tomorrow morning. He had an inflatable dingy they would have to row the final 500 metres or so to shore. That part of the talk led to some amusing demonstrations of the art of rowing. It shouldn't be too difficult, the tide would be coming in, which meant it would push them towards the beach.

Naturally, they wanted to know what happened after, and why he was staying on the yacht. He carefully explained what they had to do. They would need to find the police and report as refugees, he couldn't risk going with them. It needed to look like they had been alone in the inflatable. He told them to say they were set adrift from the boat that had brought them across. They should try to keep things vague. What should happen is they would get a temporary permit to stay whilst their applications for refugee status get processed.

Only when they had refugee status would they be free to leave the island and the country, but it could take months. He said they needed to memorise his phone number and sometime, when they were able, send him a text so he would know they were alright. They couldn't take the phone, because there must be no link back to him.

*****

Firas had decided to keep Jordan company at least for part of the night. First though, Amar and Samir would take the watch until around 10.00pm. Firas and Jordan were below in the galley sitting around the table chatting. It was 8.00pm when the VHF radio burst out with the message, "This is the Turkish Coast Guard, Patrol Vessel Guven, to the small sail craft please identify yourself."

Jordan felt his heart beating against his chest, he rushed up on deck. Samir was pointing towards the horizon with Amar standing next to him staring off into the distance. "Small sail craft identify yourself. This is the Turkish Coast Guard." The message came through a second time.

"There! Over there!" Samir pointed.

Heading towards them was the large silhouette of a white ship, easy to make out in the fading light, and it was approaching fast.

"Get down below," Jordan shouted, "and keep out of sight."

Amar pulled Samir with him down the steps to the galley. Jordan grabbed the VHF radio. "This is the pleasure boat Uccello Marino, over."

"Uccello Marino, please state the number of persons onboard, your port of departure and port of destination. Over."

"Uccello Marino, turn windward and lower your sail and come to a halt. Await further instructions."

Jordan brought the yacht around to face into the wind and went about lowering the main sail. When he'd got the sail down he poked his head down below and told the boys to all go into the aft cabin and stay there.

"What's happening?" Firas was only too aware of the atmosphere of panic.

"It's the Turkish Coast Guard. Just stay out of sight."

They all heard the load roaring of a helicopter approaching the yacht. Jordan immediately looked back in the direction of the noise and saw the large white circle of a spotlight illuminating the sea.

Soon the helicopter was hovering off the port side and the spot light was centred on Jordan as he looked up, shielding his eyes. "Uccello Marino, Turkish Coast Guard. We are sending a boarding party. Stay where you are on deck."

That's it Jordan thought, wondering why they would send a boarding party to inspect a foreign yacht, but then considering he was sailing at night, perhaps they were suspicious. He thought he must be practically out of Turkish waters, but maybe not. Anyway, it was immaterial. The plan was blown, their escape finished.

Before he had time for further reflection, his attention turned to the speeding Gemini powerboat cutting its engine and pulling in alongside. It looked like there were four armed marines and the driver behind the windshield.

Samir had his arms wrapped tightly around Amar as they sat together on one of the beds in the cabin. Firas was on the other side of Amar. "There's nowhere to hide," he whispered to Amar. "They will take us back."

"Shut up!" Amar didn't mean to be aggressive, but he was overwhelmed by what was happening. He felt responsible for all of them and if they got found and taken back, he'd failed, and it would be his fault. Amar turned to look at Firas and seeing him close to tears, he was immediately sorry for raising his voice. "Just stay silent," he said softly, and reached out to grip Firas' hand.

Onboard the Patrol Vessel Guven the Second Lieutenant came onto the bridge to hand a message just received to the captain. Reading what it said, the captain saw they now had a more urgent mission. The inspection of the yacht his colleague Haluk had asked for would have to be dropped for an interception of a possible refugee boat.

"Get the chopper back and recall the boarding party," the captain ordered.

The Gemini was tied up alongside and two marines had climbed aboard the yacht. A third was about to come onboard when they received the order to abandon the inspection and return immediately to their ship. The marine commander was watching Jordan, he knew he needed to get back straightaway to their ship but he was reluctant to leave without doing anything.

The helicopter had switched off it's search beam and was halfway back to the ship. "Just give a quick look below," the commander instructed, and the second marine went down into the galley.

The boys were huddled together on the bed in the aft cabin, Samir was gripping tight with his arms squeezing Amar. They heard the heavy footsteps descending, but they moved away to the stern cabin. A door opened, then closed, the footsteps approached their cabin. The doorknob turned and the door started to open.

The door to their cabin remained ajar, the three of them held their breath. Footsteps went quickly back to the galley and up the steps.

Jordan watched as the marines got back in their Gemini and then pulled away from the yacht. All he could think of now they had gone, was to get out of there as quickly as possible. He was overwhelmed by the idea they could come back. With that in mind, he wanted to get out of Turkish waters. Mechanically, as if propelled on autopilot, he heaved up the mainsail and brought the yacht back around on course.

The boat suddenly started moving. The forward motion was very apparent, but the boys didn't dare move from the cabin. They were frozen together like statues, vibrating statues. Each one of them could feel the others’ trembling body.

When the cabin door swung open, they didn't know if they were safe, not until they saw Jordan. "You can come out now. They've gone."

All three followed Jordan into the galley where they hugged each other and cried. It was uncertain who began crying first, but each of them, Jordan included, shed some tears.

"I need to get back on deck and keep a look out. The last thing we need after that is an accident."

"I'm coming too," Firas said.

They left Amar and Samir in the galley, and went on deck. Jordan stood at the helm with Firas beside him. They had an arm around each other, what thoughts each of them were thinking is uncertain, but they were both feeling the same emotional comfort you get from holding one another.

*****

Jordan had been up most of the night and Firas kept him company for a good part of the time. Now all four were on deck and it was Samir who spotted the coastline first. As dawn broke on what promised to be a beautiful day, the outline of Rhodes came into view. It was perfect weather, a calm sea and gentle breeze; it was also perfect timing.

With the help of Amar, Jordan got the inflatable up on deck and in five minutes it was a working dingy with oars to help row ashore. The yacht was practically at a stand still bobbing up and down gently. Amar climbed down into the dingy and Firas and Jordan handed him their belongings in three backpacks.

The boys had left what little they owned back in Antalya and had come aboard with just the clothes they wore. Jordan had however done a lot of preparation, with Pierre's help, they'd bought backpacks, clothes, shoes, towels, and some supplies including a tent.

With everything stowed on the dingy, they said their farewells, Jordan hugged Samir and Firas, and told Amar, "Take care of them, and yourself."

He smiled, but with a wetness in his eyes, "No problem, Mister Jordan."

Then all three were in the dingy and Amar took the oars, Firas cast off the tie, and the little inflatable turned towards the shore. Samir and Firas waved, Jordan watched the dingy until it was just a tiny speck of blackness.

The dingy moved up and down with the rolling waves, but just as Jordan had said, the tide carried them towards the shore. With practice Amar soon got used to rowing, it wasn't long before rocks and a beach came into view. It was the crash of the waves against the rocks that alerted Amar to manœuver right towards the deserted stretch of sand. In all it took no more than about twenty minutes to reach the shoreline.

Firas hopped out of the dingy, splashing into the water, which reached up to just above his knees. He took hold of the front of the inflatable and pulled it towards the beach, although it was difficult. Samir jumped out to help, the water nearly reaching the younger boy's waist, but together they managed to handle the dingy. Finally, with all three of them in the water they dragged it up onto the beach, far enough so as not to be reclaimed by the incoming tide, even though they were finished with it. The dingy had served its purpose. They had arrived.

*****

Jordan fetched the binoculars and watched the boys going ashore. Once he was certain they were safely on the beach, he turned his attention back to the yacht. He wanted to stay longer, but knew it was best to set sail, so he hoisted the main sail, turned the boat away from the beach and set a course out to sea.

The rays of the early morning sun sparkled off the crests of the rolling waves, the breeze had turned to a light wind which billowed in the sails, pushing the yacht further and further away as it picked up speed. Jordan glanced back one final time, looking towards the shoreline, and he wondered if he would ever see the boys again. Probably not.

*****

Once the inflatable was hauled up the beach, they picked up their backpacks and all three boys looked back out to see, watching the yacht turn and sail away. 'What now?' Amar asked himself, feeling once more the responsibility for their future rested on his shoulders. "I think we should move up to the dunes back there and dry off before anything else."

"Yes," Samir replied, "my jeans are soaking."

"It was not a brilliant idea to wear jeans. Mine are wet too," Firas added.

About fifty metres up towards the back of the beach were low-lying dunes and grass. That's where they headed. Then finding a nice verdant island, set down their packs and sat down. Samir took off his jeans and Firas did the same. They spread them out on the grass to dry in the sun.

"Europe," Amar smiled, touching the sandy soil. "The land of promise. We made it."

Firas stretched out on the grass, feeling the warmth of the sun on his legs. Samir stripped off his underpants, they were wet too, then lay down between the other two boys. Looking around, there was no sign of life. The beach had rocks to each side, and behind them was flat scrubland, just beyond the dunes.

There was no hurry to move from here and they could wait for their clothes to dry before going off to find a town or village. They had supplies, so could even pitch the tent for the night if they wanted. It was a nice spot.

*****

Firas' thoughts drifted to Jordan as he lay back on the soft grass with his arms folded behind his head. He thought of their last moment together and daydreamed a perfect story of being reunited with the young American who would sweep him up in his arms and declare his love for him. Just a fantasy he knew would never come true, but he was happy he had not let Jordan disappear from his life without having shared a moment of intimacy. He knew Jordan couldn't feel the same way he did, he would go back to his life a million miles away, but they had had one little moment together, he would always remember, and he was glad about that.

---

This is the end of part two, the third part will begin in a few days time. I hope that you have enjoyed reading this story, so far. Your comments are always welcome and you may write to me at william.king.writer@gmail.com

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